Can't Afford To Lose You
by Screaming Purple Duck
Summary: Sabriel AU. Gabriel comes over to Sam and Dean's house for dinner, and chaos ensues. Slight sprinkling of Destiel.
1. Chapter 1

"Dean," Sam said through clenched teeth. "What do you mean; somebody is coming over for dinner?"

"Just what I said, Sammy," Dean replied as he bit into his burger with a delighted sigh. "This is some good meat."

"Don't forget the bun, lettuce, tomato, onion, and bacon," Sam muttered as he angrily stabbed a french fry into the puddle of ketchup.

"This is some good everything, Sammy," Dean replied as he happily bit into his burger. "I like these. I like them a lot."

"Dean, focus!" Sam snapped as he pushed his meal to the side. "Who did you invite over to dinner?"

Dean sighed, though in annoyance this time, and put his burger down. He despised when his brother decided that it was time to discuss things when it was chow time, which, the younger Winchester had apparently decided, was the opportune moment to talk. Dean frowned once again as he looked at his burger with longing. Sam cleared his throat, that sound even sounding annoyed.

"Alright, Sammy," Dean muttered as he wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "I invited that chef friend of Cas's. The one who makes really good mac-n-cheese."

Sam's mouth dropped open. "You invited _Gabriel_ to our house tonight. For dinner."

Dean nodded, thinking the conversation was finished now that Sam knew who was coming over for dinner. With a grin forming on his lips, he reached for his burger. Sweet, heavenly, juicy, delicious meat was in his near future. Forget the grin, he thought as he bit into the sandwich, I should be licking these lips. Sam cleared his throat again, and Dean sighed.

"What now, Sam?" Dean asked, growing annoyed. He wanted that burger, damn it! "I'm trying to eat here. Can't you see that?"

"That's exactly the point!" Sam said, exasperated, as he stabbed another fry into the ketchup. "What do you feed a man like that? He's eaten _everywhere! _It's not like I can just feed him meat and potatoes, Dean."

Dean grinned at his brother as he reached over and swiped one of his fries. "Maybe that's what he's expecting, Sammy. Meat and potatoes!"

Sam sighed and pushed his food away from him. His appetite was gone. "Dean. I can't feed a person like that just anything. I've got to do something special. Like… I can't even think of something off the top of my head."

"Okay, freakazoid," Dean said as he picked up the burger once more, "it's not that hard. You'll think of something. You'll make it. We'll eat it. That's it. And now, my dear brother, I am going to finish this piece of heaven on my plate, and then we will get back to work."

"More like heart attack on a plate," Sam murmured as he stared disgustingly at the lump of meat on top of Dean's plate. "You could have at least tried the tofu burger. It's better for you."

Dean flipped his brother off. "Tofu this."

Sam grinned as he bit into his, ha ha, tofu burger. The thing really did taste like, well… Nothing. His eyes drifted to his brother's burger, and his mouth watered. Why did eating healthy have to be so distasteful? Literally. He grinned at his own joke and dunked another unsalted fry into the ketchup. He missed salt.

The bell on the door jangled as it was opened, and Sam waved the new person down. Cas strolled toward the table, his biker boots making a slight _thump_ with each step. Sam's eyes nearly fell out of his head when he noticed that the usual librarian-style dress the other man wore had been switched out for what appeared to be authentic biker wear. The man's dark hair was spiked up and… Oh, my Lord, was he wearing eyeliner?

"Dean," Sam said as he stifled a laugh, "you _have_ to get a look at your boy."

Dean grumbled and turned in his seat, prepared for something different. His eyes bulged and he coughed on his mouthful of burger. He'd been prepared for tight pants, _maybe_, but not the new duds. Sam thumped his hand on his brother's back as the food fought its way through Dean's esophagus. Cas grinned at them, drawing their eyes to his… _Lip ring?_

"Hey," Cas said as he slipped into the booth next to Dean. "How's it going?"

Dean, having finally swallowed the problematic bite of burger, gaped at his friend. "How's it _going_? You're sitting next to me, in all black leather, eyeliner, and a lip ring, and you ask how it's _going_?"

Cas frowned down at his shirt. "What's wrong with it? Gabriel said I looked smashing in it."

Sam coughed in order to hide his laughter. "Uh, Cas, you see… You, uh, can't pull off the leather and chains look, my man. Stick to your trench coat and button-downs."

Cas sighed and leaned back against the booth seats. "I knew I looked ridiculous in this. But Gabriel… He can be very persuasive."

Dean touched a fingertip to a stud on Cas's leather jacket. "He must be, if he got you to go out in public in this get up."

Cas pushed Dean's hand away. "Oh, shut up. I'll change later. I'm missing my underwear, anyways."

Sam burst out laughing. Dean's eyes widened. Cas blushed and looked away. And the waitress, who had appeared to ask if Dean wanted more soda, looked down at Cas's pants. Dean cleared his throat and motioned to his glass, indicating that the girl could replace the liquid. She flushed and grabbed the glass, bustling away into the mill of other people.

"Oh, he must be good," Sam said as he wiped a tear away from his eye, "if he got Cas, the good samaritan that he is, to walk around commando."

Cas squirmed awkwardly in his seat. "Oh, will you stop it? It's just one piece of clothing, you know."

Dean cleared his throat and set the remainder of his burger on his plate. His appetite has magically disappeared. "Okay. Would this be a good time to say that I invited your dear friend Gabriel to dinner tonight?"

Cas grinned at his friend. "And how did Mr. Worry Wart take this news?"

Sam made a strangled sound. "How do you think I took it? What do I cook for a man who can out-cook God?"

Cas frowned as he diagnosed that bit of information. "I don't know about that. I'm sure that Gabriel cannot out-cook God. Nobody can out-anything God, right?"

Dean shrugged and motioned toward the waitress. "Check, please."

"Comin' right up, honey," she murmured as she placed a hand on Cas's shoulder. "Can I get y'all anything else before you go? Dessert, maybe? We have pie!"

Dean perked up. "Maybe a piece of pie."

"A box," Sam murmured as he bit into his tofu burger once again.

Cas shook his head and grabbed for Dean's plate. Dean sighed and pushed the plate toward the other man. With a grin, Cas grabbed for the burger and bit into it with a delighted groan. Dean looked at Sam with a pointed, I-told-you-it-was-a-piece-of-heaven look. Sam rolled his eyes and bit into his tofu burger again.

"Here's your box, sugar," the waitress chirped as she handed Sam the box before turning to Dean with a very warm and friendly smile. "And here's your pie, darlin'."

Dean smiled thanks and reached for his pie. He likes his pie.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam frowned as he looked at the tomatoes. The tomatoes were too mushy, which meant that he had to find a different recipe to make. Maybe he should take Dean's suggestion to heart and make the guy meat and potatoes. He really shouldn't be expecting that, should he? Sam scoffed to himself and wheeled the cart over into the wine selection.

"Well, aren't I a regular Domestic Debby?" Sam muttered to himself as he reached for a bottle of wine – not too expensive, very tasty – only to have his fingers to collide with another set.

"Hey, sorry, man," Sam said as he jerked his hand away.

"Oh, please," the other man replied as he retracted his hand as well, "don't apologize. It wasn't your fault!"

Sam looked down at the other man – _really _looked down – and shrugged. His eyes wandered back to the wine that they both seemed to crave. Only one bottle left. Damn. The other man must have noticed the same thing, since he stamped a foot and muttered a curse beneath his breath. The youngest Winchester nearly laughed. Too bad the guy didn't have red hair. He could be a leprechaun.

"Hey, you take it," Sam said as he mentally went over the recipe for tonight. "I'll go get a different one."

"Oh, are you sure?" the other man asked, chewing delicately at his lower lip. "I don't want to cheat you out of anything…"

Sam nodded and started to wheel the cart away from the stranger. "Yeah, it's fine."

Sam sighed. Mushy tomatoes, no wine… What was next? Would the chicken magically not be there when he got to it? The cart wheel screeched loudly as he wheeled toward the poultry products, making him wince. He was trying to be as unnoticable as possible. The wheel pulling the let's-be-an-opera-star routine so wasn't helping. The looks it was drawing made him feel itchy.

"Okaaaaaaaaay," Sam murmured to himself as his eyes scanned over the chicken.

He reached for a package of two boneless chicken breasts and set it in the cart. Then, on a second thought, he grabbed three more. Six chicken breasts should cover it all… Sam figured that Dean would eat at least three, Cas always ate one, Sam would eat one, two at the most… That would leave two for Gabriel, if he wanted more than one. Chewing on his bottom lip, he briefly wondered if he should grab another package when he saw the same man from earlier walk up to him – and stare at the large amount of chicken in the cart.

"Either you _really_ like chicken," the man said with a smirk as he nodded toward the basket, "or you're feeding a small army."

Sam laughed and stuck out his hand. "Small army, I guess you could say. Sam."

The other man took his hand, and warmth spread through Sam's arm. "Gabe. And if you're debating on whether or not to grab an extra thing of chicken, why not play it on the safe side and make more than less?"

Sam grinned at the other man before reaching over to grab another package of chicken breast. "You know what… That was great advice. Thank you."

Gabe nodded. "Good luck with your small army, Sam. See 'ya around."

Sam frowned at the man's retreating back. He highly doubted he'd see him around, but it had been fun to be distracted momentarily from the rush he was in to get everything prepared for tonight. And with that cheery thought, the larger Winchester wheeled the talkative cart to gather a bag of potatoes.

He was about to head up to the cashier when he remembered the pie. The last time he'd forgotten the pie, Dean had held him in a headlock and tickled his ribs until he pleaded uncle. That was an experience he wasn't all that eager to repeat, so he went back to the baked goods, choosing a pecan pie – though Dean loathes pecan pie – for his big brother.

He grabbed a couple more things – sugar, two percent, soy milk, M&M's for Cas – before wheeling up toward the front of the store. The cashier was a woman in a tight white t-shirt, dark jeans, and she had the _cutest _smile Sam had ever laid eyes on. She flirted as each and every item was scanned, until she realized how much chicken he was buying. She nervously slid all the chicken breasts across the line – _beep, beep, beep, beep, beep – _then said his total quietly.

Oh, God, Sam thought to himself as he pulled some bills out of his wallet, she probably thinks I'm some sort of chicken freak.

"Thanks," Sam murmured as he accepted the receipt she handed him. "Have a nice day!"

The girl made some sort of noncommittal sound and turned to her other customer. Sam sighed and grabbed the bags, toting them out to his Prius. He sighed. He longed for the horsepower that the Impala possessed. Instead, he thought as he stowed the groceries in the back of the vehicle, he got this wimpy little thing. All because it's "good for the environment."

As he slid into the driver's seat, his phone rang. The ringtone – Metallica's No Leaf Clover – let him know automatically that it was his brother. Sam wriggled around, attempting to fish the small device out of his pocket. He answered on the last ring that his phone gave – usually it was four – with a breathy "hello."

"Sammy!" Dean's voice boomed from the other end, and Sam could hear the Xbox screaming with sounds of COD. "Didja get the pie?"

"Dean," Sam said on a sigh as he started the ignition, "when have I _ever_ forgotten the pie?"

"First time for everything, bitch," Dean replied as he laughed when he shot some poor sap on the other end of a screen. "Hurry up. Cas called. He and Gabriel'll be here at seven for dinner."

Sam glanced at the clock on his dash and cursed. Violently. "BUT IT'S ALREADY 6:25, DEAN!"

Dean chuckled from the other end of the line as another series of screams erupted from his game. "I know, Sammy. Chop chop, Sammy."

Sam gripped his phone tighter to his ear as he maneuvered the vehicle out of the parking lot and onto main street. "Dean. Sometimes I could hate you." He scoffed. "Sometimes I _do_ hate you."

Dean shrugged, though his brother couldn't see it. "Didja remember the pie?"

Sam sighed and pulled the phone away from his ear. As he went to shut the thing off, he heard Dean's "Sammy? **Sammy**!Did you get the pie?"

Sam grinned as he ended the call. Served Dean right, purposefully not letting him know when the guests were supposed to arrive. He drove home on autopilot, thinking about how long it would take for the chicken to cook – at least 45 minutes at 350. He sighed. There was no way he could have it done by seven.

When he pulled into the driveway, it was 6:37. Sam sighed and lugged everything into the house, immediately bypassing his brother and heading to the kitchen and began unloading the groceries. Dean shut the game off and shuffled after his brother, his stockinged feet making a _pad, pad, pad, _sound on the carpet. Sam reached into a paper bag and pulled out the pie, setting it on the table for his brother.

"What the- Are you fucking seirous, Sammy?" Dean all but growled as he looked down at the pie. "Pecan? You know how much I _hate_ pecan pie."

Sam shrugged as he started cutting the chicken, getting it ready to go into the frying pan. "Sorry, Dean. It was on sale. Could you put some olive oil in that pan, please?"

Dean grumbled as he dumped olive oil – too much, in Sam's opinion – into the frying pan. The heat was turned to high as Sam dumped some onions into the pan to sauté. He watched as Dean cut the pie neatly into triangles before plating the individual pieces on dessert plates. Sam shook his head as he added the chicken to the onions moments later and set his mind to autopilot as he prepped baked potatoes for microwave nuking.

"Dude," Dean said around a mouthful of pie. "Meat and potatoes. Awesome."

Sam stuck a hand on his hip and waved annoyingly at his brother. "Getcha ass outta my kitchen. Go kill some creature or something on your games."

Dean saluted and sauntered out of the kitchen. Sam checked his watch. It was 6:57. With a groan, he stuck the potatoes in the microwave and set the cook time for ten minutes. Dinner was only going to be a few minutes late. He nervously chewed on his lower lip as he assembled the chicken and onions on a plate, sprinkling some salt and pepper on top while adding a salad off to the side.

The bell rang at exactly 7:05. Dean's muffled voice came from somewhere in the house. Sam assumed that his other brother was saying he'd get the door, and the younger Winchester waited impatiently for the next two minutes to go past. When the microwave finally gave a happy ding!, Sam quickly cut the potatoes open and placed them on the plates. Dinner was served.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as he opened the door to the kitchen. "Get in here and help me carry-"

"Sammy," Dean's barely-controlled laughter sounded in his voice, "come here. Now."

Sam sighed and walked down the hallway toward the front door. He looked down at his hands as he wiped them clean with a dish towel. He glanced up with a smile plastered politely onto his face until his eyes widened with shock. His brother finally lost it, doubling over with laughter while Sam just shook his head.

"Cas. What. The. Hell." Sam said just before he burst out laughing.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," a familiar voice sounded from beside Cas.

Sam looked up, eyes widening. "Gabe?"

The other man grinned, a flirty glint in his eyes. "Sammy. Long time no see!"

_No kidding, _Sam thought as he ushered the two guests into the house.


End file.
